


back where it ended (and then began again)

by thepalebluedot



Series: home is a relative term [2]
Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan, The Heroes of Olympus - Rick Riordan
Genre: Gen, thalia leaves the hunters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-18
Updated: 2020-09-18
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:27:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,668
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26523667
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thepalebluedot/pseuds/thepalebluedot
Summary: Thalia leaves the Hunt. There are several reasons why.
Relationships: Annabeth Chase & Thalia Grace
Series: home is a relative term [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1920187
Comments: 13
Kudos: 45





	back where it ended (and then began again)

**Author's Note:**

> anyways thalia should've left the hunt bc she only joined to escape the prophecy and bc she's gay and deserves to kiss a girl

When Thalia leaves the Hunt, it’s to little fanfare. Not that she was expecting fanfare in the first place. 

After her midnight talk with Annabeth, the two of them ended up sleeping in Percy’s cabin. He was in the city, and Annabeth didn’t want to leave Thalia by herself. Thalia left before breakfast, not wanting to make an even bigger thing of her visit and met back up with the Hunters in Montana. They seemed to be none the wiser, but Thalia isn’t stupid. She knows that Artemis knows about her side trip; she is a goddess, after all. But if the Hunters know she was lying about her reason for leaving, they haven’t let on, and they aren’t the type to let it simmer, so she figures she’s in the clear. At least, she is until she has to deal with Artemis. 

Artemis is sensible, thank christ and the fishes. Thalia is fairly certain she won’t be smited when all this comes to light. And it will come to light, because she plans on telling Artemis about it. When, though, she still hasn’t quite figured out. Artemis comes and goes as she pleases; there’s no way to know for certain when she’ll join them again, and besides, Thalia wants some time to sort out her thoughts. 

Of course, it isn’t that easy. Sorting out her thoughts, that is. There are monsters to hunt and demigods to help and menial camp tasks to do and spats between the girls to settle. 

Weeks pass. 

When she does have downtime, she spends it alone. She thinks about all the female singers she was obsessed with growing up, and wonders. She thinks about Annabeth, how grown she’s beginning to look, while Thalia still barely looks fucking fifteen. She thinks about being on the run with Luke, the freedom she felt despite the constant fear. She thinks of all the years she’s spent as a Hunter, the peace she felt when she first joined. She still feels that peace, sometimes. She feels it now, somewhere in the Appalachians staring at a dying campfire while her sisters in arms sleep and the wolves keep watch, but she knows it’s fleeting. The certainty she felt when she first joined the Hunt has vanished. 

She thinks about Percy, and of the prophecy she escaped. That she joined the Hunt to escape. 

She thinks about watching Annabeth and Percy and Grover die, about being fifteen forever. 

It’s hard to keep track of time when you’re immortal and don’t use technology. She thinks back to when she last visited Annabeth. How long has it been? Two weeks? A month? Surely not more than a month. But the weather had been warm then, she’s sure of it. She’s also sure it snowed the other day. 

Fuck. 

She thinks about how she’s grown tired of being constantly on the move, all of the monsters she’s killed three times over. She thinks about punk music and black nail polish and fast food and her brother and all she’s missed these past years detached from the rest of the world. 

She bites the bullet and prays to Artemis. 

Several, long moments pass during which Thalia wonders if she’s making a huge mistake. Then, there’s a golden glow shining through the trees. It fades, and Artemis walks into the clearing where they’ve set up camp, pats a passing wolf on the head, and sits down cross legged across from Thalia.

Thalia looks her in the eyes. 

“My lady,” she says. 

“Lieutenant,” Artemis says evenly. 

Artemis waits. Thalia realizes she has no idea what to say. She decides, after a moment, that the less she says the better. She steels herself. 

“Lady Artemis, I would like to leave the Hunt.” 

Artemis tilts her head. She’s quiet for a moment, then says, “Very well.” 

Thalia blinks, then breathes. 

Artemis continues, “Who would you recommend take your place?” 

“Phoebe,” Thalia says, surprising herself with how immediately the answer comes. “She’s my second in command, she’s more than capable.” 

Artemis nods. “She is. She will do well.” 

There’s a stretch of silence. A fox wanders over and curls up next to Artemis, its head on her lap. She strokes it’s fur absently. 

Thalia caves. “What now?” 

“You are certain you want to leave the Hunt?” Artemis says. 

Thalia manages not to hesitate. “Yes, my lady.” 

“I relieve thee.” 

Thalia begins to glow silver, the brightness increasing until she has to close her eyes against it. When she opens them, Artemis is gone. The fox trots off into the trees. The fire is completely dead now, and Thalia spends several minutes staring at the charred wood. 

It’s darker now, she realizes. She can’t see as well in the dark anymore. 

That gets her up and moving, even if it’s only so she doesn’t have to think about it. 

She ducks into the tent that she shares with Phoebe. For a moment, she stands in the doorway, letting her eyes adjust and taking stock. She slings her quiver and bow over her shoulder. Her hunting knife is still strapped to her thigh, and her bag is still packed. She isn’t actually sure if she’s allowed to take any of it, but if Artemis didn’t want her to, she should have said so. 

She puts her hand to her forehead, intending to take off the silver circlet she’s worn for...she doesn’t know how many years, now, and hand it off to Phoebe, but her forehead is bare. She runs her hands through her hair and finds nothing.

Well then. 

It shouldn’t be surprising, but she finds that it still stings.

She takes a deep breath, and gently shakes Phoebe awake. 

“Thalia?” Phoebe says, instantly alert. “Is something wrong?” 

“You’re lieutenant now,” Thalia says quietly. 

Phoebe frowns and sits up. Silver glints in her hair. 

“What?” Phoebe says. 

“I’m leaving the Hunt,” Thalia says, voice stronger. “You’re taking my place as lieutenant.” 

Phoebe studies Thalia’s face for a moment, then nods. “Are you going to tell the others, or should I?”

“I can,” Thalia says, because she owes them that much, at least. 

“You’re leaving now, are you not?” 

Thalia shrugs. “I can wait.” 

“Go,” Phoebe says. “I’ll tell them.” 

Thalia nods, and Phoebe reaches out and takes one of Thalia’s hands between her own. 

“Live well,” she says, and there’s a pang in Thalia’s chest as she realizes she’ll miss her. Phoebe doesn’t ask questions, doesn’t push. Thalia loves her for that right now. 

“You too,” Thalia says. “Be safe.” 

Phoebe smiles and lays back down, rolling over to face the wall of the tent as Thalia sees herself out. Several of the wolves whine at her as she sets off into the woods. 

It’s strange, being on her own. It’s easy, only having to worry about herself, but she hasn’t been alone like this since before she met Luke. She heads north with a vague plan to end up at Camp Half-Blood. She isn’t sure she wants to stay there for long, but it’s as good a place as any to figure her shit out, and she misses Annabeth. 

On her second day of traveling, she stumbles across a hellhound. As it explodes into dust, she’s reminded of something. Of someone. 

_ I’m an idiot _ , she thinks. 

She brushes off the monster dust and digs a clear glass prism and a drachma out of her bag. Nico’s image shimmers into existence in front of her. He’s standing in an unfamiliar kitchen, poking through the cabinets, but he notices her right away. 

“Thalia?” he says. “Is everything okay?” 

Damn, can she not call just to say hello? 

“Yeah, I’m fine,” she says. “Do you have a minute?” 

“Sure.” 

“I need a ride to camp.” 

“Half-Blood?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Just you?” he says, sounding mildly concerned. 

“Yeah.” 

“Where are you?” 

“Somewhere in the Appalachians.”

He nods. “Give me five.” He waves his hand and the image melts away. 

Mrs. O’Leary bounds out of the trees a few minutes later. Nico looks down at her from where he’s perched on her back. 

“You’re mortal,” he says immediately, and Thalia thinks,  _ fuck _ . Fucking children of Hades. 

“I am.” 

“What happened?” 

“I left,” she says shortly.

“On your own terms?”

“Yes.”

“Oh. Okay. That’s good.” She glares at him. He backtracks, “I mean, it’s good you didn’t piss off Artemis, or something. Don’t need another angry god.” 

He’s got her there.

“So. Can you get me to camp?”

Nico rolls his eyes. “I’m doing fine, thanks for asking.” He holds out a hand, beckoning her to climb on. She ignores him and hauls herself up on her own, earning herself another eye roll. She sticks her tongue out at him.

He leans forward to talk to Mrs. O’Leary. “Okay, girl. To Camp Half-Blood.” 

Mrs. O’Leary starts running full speed towards the shade beyond the clearing she’d been waiting in. Thalia closes her eyes and feels the world go cold. She hates shadow traveling, but she didn’t feel like walking all the way to New York, and she didn’t feel like taking mortal transportation either. 

She only opens her eyes when she feels sunlight burning against her eyelids. They’re on Half-Blood Hill, just inside the border. Peleus stares at them lazily, and the Athena Parthenos glints gold. Mrs. O’Leary sits down with a thump. Nico slides off her back. Thalia follows suit. Nico scratches behind her ears and praises her, and she basks in the attention for a few seconds before resting her head on her paws and falling asleep almost immediately. 

“So,” Nico says, turning to Thalia, “Here you are.” 

“Thank you,” she says. “I appreciate it.” 

He shrugs one shoulder. “It’s what I’m here for.” 

Thalia feels a bit like shit for that, but she and Nico have never really been close enough for her to call him just to chat. They usually only talk when one of them needs a favor. She spends a moment wondering if he still keeps to himself, or if he’s made some friends his own age. Wait, is he older than her now? Biologically?  _ Fuck _ . 

“See you around,” Nico says, bringing her back to reality. 

“What?” 

“See you around.” 

“You’re not staying?” 

“Nah.” 

“Oh. See you around, then.” 

He nods in her direction, then walks off into the trees and melts into the shadows. Thalia sits down heavily next to Mrs. O’Leary, who is beginning to snore, and stares down into the valley. The pine tree stands tall and healthy, the golden fleece glittering in the branches. Her pine tree. Thalia’s tree. She knows they still call it that, even though it’s Peleus’s tree, now. The fleece’s tree. 

Her eternal soul is back in her body, even though her body became the tree, and the tree still stands, and if she thinks about it for too long she gets a headache and wants to scream. She could go for a good scream right now, but that would most likely cause a panic, so she just sits next to Mrs. O’Leary and doesn’t think about Luke and Kronos and the fleece and whether or not she would’ve been better off as a goddamn tree. 

She needs to find Annabeth. Or Grover, or Percy. Fuck, are any of them even here? It is winter, now. Chiron will be here, at least. 

Off to her right, Peleus snorts and snuffles. 

“Yeah,” she says. “I know.” 

She hauls herself to her feet and heads towards the Big House. 

It figures that Dionysus is the only one there, sitting on the porch playing Solitaire and drinking a Diet Coke. He glances up at the sound of her footsteps on the stairs. 

“Daughter of Zeus,” he says, eyes back on his game. Thalia scowls. 

“Mr. D,” she grinds out. 

“What brings you here,” he says, sounding bored. 

“I left the Hunt,” she says icily. “I need a place to stay. For now, anyways.”

He shifts in his seat, still looking at the cards on the table. He takes a sip of his Diet Coke, then looks up at her, as if to say  _ why are you still here _ . 

“Well, you know how things work here,” he says. “Cabin one, dinner in the pavilion, etcetera.” 

“I’m not staying in the Zeus cabin. Can’t I stay in the Big House?” 

“No.” 

“Why?”

Dionysus sighs. “Because.” 

“What about another cabin?” 

“No. The gods won’t allow it.” 

“You’re a god.”

Dionysus rolls his eyes. “Well spotted.”

“You could allow it.” 

“What makes you think it’s up to me?” 

“I’m  _ not _ staying in the Zeus cabin,” she repeats. “Where’s Chiron?”

“Busy.” 

She turns to leave, intending to go find Chiron herself. A vine grows from the ones wrapped around the porch posts and circles around her ankle, holding her in place. She fucking hates gods. 

“Now child,” Dionysus says. “I couldn’t care less where you lay your little head to sleep. But rules are rules. Show some respect.” 

Thalia snorts. “Respect? What would you know about respect?” 

Dionysus doesn’t get angry, to her surprise. He waves a hand around absently, says, “Oh, more than you.” He takes a sip of his diet Coke. “Now run along. You have free reign of the cabin. You have your choice of beds. Consider yourself lucky.” 

Thalia stares at him for a moment, then laughs humorlessly. 

“My choice of beds,” she repeats. 

He looks over at her, eyebrows raised like he thinks she’s stupid. 

“Yes,” he says slowly. “Unless you have a third sibling I have yet to know about.” 

“There are no beds in the Zeus cabin.” 

He frowns. “Don’t be silly.” 

“Why would I lie?” 

“Oh, for any number of reasons.” 

“It’s more of a temple than a cabin. Not a single piece of furniture, last I checked.” 

“Last you checked,” he says, raising an eyebrow. 

“Well, has anyone else gone in there and fixed it?”

“Point,” he concedes. He calls one of the satyrs over from the strawberry fields and sends him to investigate the Zeus cabin while Thalia fumes. Several minutes later, she’s proven right. 

Dionysus sighs yet again. “I suppose we’ll have to fix that. In the meantime, find somewhere to sleep that isn’t the cabin of another god. I don’t care where. Now off you go.” 

He makes a shooing motion with his hand, and the vine unwinds from around her ankle. 

“Very helpful,” she mutters. Dionysus pretends not to hear. 

She needs to find Annabeth. 

Instead, she ends up in front of the Zeus cabin. She sits down on the front steps and waits. She’s much better at waiting, now, thanks to her time spent in the Hunt. She sits statue-still in front of the Zeus cabin as the sun marches across the sky. She thinks about Apollo and how uncomfortable and wrong it feels when he hits on her and the other Hunters. She thinks about Phoebe’s aunt. She thinks about boxed blue hair dye in gas station bathrooms. Luke had been the first to help her dye the ends of her hair, the bleach making his fingers tingle and ruining his clothes. He hadn’t minded. 

She loved him. She hadn’t been sure in what way, at the time, leaning on his shoulder at night trying to sleep and wondering why some part of her recoiled at the thought of kissing him. He loved her too, that much she knows. They’d been family. They were all the other had. 

She loved him like a brother, she knows now. In what way he loved her, she’ll never know. 

She wonders how he felt when he found out she joined the Hunt. 

There’s an ache in her chest. She sits statue-still in front of the Zeus cabin. 

Eventually, a few campers wander by and spot her. They frown and whisper amongst themselves; she's an anomaly, sitting where she is and still wearing her grey camo and silver jacket. Word travels fast through camp. Less than an hour later, Annabeth is jogging across the green towards her. Thalia stands as she approaches and lets herself be pulled into a hug. 

It’s a long hug. Eventually, Annabeth pulls away and holds Thalia at arm's length. 

“Are you okay?” Annabeth says, looking her up and down. 

Thalia smiles. “Yeah, I’m good.” 

“Are the Hunters with you?” Annabeth asks hesitantly. 

Thalia shakes her head. “No. I left.” 

“For good?” 

“Yep,” she says, popping the P. 

Annabeth pulls her into another hug, says, “I’m proud of you,” quietly in her ear. 

Thalia hugs her back, and the ache in her chest eases just a bit. 

“Still no beds,” Thalia says into Annabeth’s hair. “And Dionysus said I couldn’t stay in the Big House.” 

Annabeth lets go and takes a step back, frowning. “Why not?”

“Because,” Thalia says with finger quotes. 

Annabeth rolls her eyes and mutters something rude under her breath. Thalia’s missed her. 

“And you told him about the Zeus cabin?” 

Thalia nods. “No big house, no other cabins. Said he’d fix the beds problem, but I’m not holding my breath.”

Annabeth scowls. “No, I wouldn’t either. But where the fuck does he expect you to stay?” 

“On the floor of cabin one, probably. Or in a tent in the woods.” 

Annabeth’s frown disappears suddenly. “Rachel!” she exclaims. 

“What?” 

“You can stay with Rachel. You’ll be on the couch for a night or two, but that’s fine, right?”

“Rachel lives here?”

“Yeah. Well, sometimes. When she’s not at school. And sometimes when she is at school.” 

“Where?”

Annabeth grins. “In a cave.” 

Thalia does not grin. “In a cave,” she repeats. 

“It’s a nice cave,” Annabeth assures her. “It’s furnished and everything.”

“A cave. Okay.” 

Annabeth elbows her. “Give it a chance. C’mon, I’ll show you.”

Thalia sighs, but follows Annabeth when she starts walking in the direction of the Parthenos. 

“Besides,” Annabeth says as they walk, “Apollo set it up, and he’ll be happy to let you stay there. No one’s left the Hunt alive in a long time. He’ll love that you dissed Artemis.” 

Thalia frowns. “I didn’t, though. It was civil.” 

Annabeth side-eyes her. “I know that, and you know that. Apollo probably knows that. But he’ll take any excuse to tease his sister,” she says, and yeah, she has a point. 

It does turn out to be a very nice cave. The outside is very ominous and dramatic, torches and bones and velvet curtains embroidered with snakes, for some reason. But the inside is surprisingly homey and comfortable, big couches and a shocking number of pillows. It’s well lit, fire-burning lamps everywhere and rooms divided by walls of rock and beaded curtains. The walls are covered in paintings: gods and heroes and monsters. 

“Prophecies,” Annabeth says, noticing Thalia’s gaze. “She paints what she sees, says it helps.” 

Thalia didn’t know Rachel painted. She doesn’t know much about Rachel at all. 

“Rachel’s at school right now,” Annabeth says, rocking back and forth on the balls of her feet. “Her room is through there,” she points at an enclave with a multicolored beaded curtain tied open in front of it. 

“There are a few rooms,” she continues. “They’re living rooms with couches, though. The Hephaestus cabin can build you a bedframe and we’ll get you a mattress delivered.” 

“Is Rachel the only one who lives here?”

“Yeah.” 

Thalia frowns. “Why are there a bunch of rooms?” 

Annabeth sighs. “I don’t know. Neither does Rachel. Apollo set this place up.” 

“Ah.” 

“Yeah,” Annabeth says, walking over to and flopping down on the nearest couch. “So,” she continues, “Do you wanna talk about it?” 

“About what,” Thalia says.

“Okay,” Annabeth says and falls silent. Thalia wanders over to a pile of giant pillows on the floor and sits down, sinking into it. 

“I just,” Thalia says, eventually. “What if I made a mistake?” 

Annabeth turns her head to meet her eyes, contemplating. 

“I think you made the right choice, for what it’s worth. Either way, there’s no going back.” Thalia snorts, but Annabeth continues, “No use agonizing over it. Now you just...live with it.” 

“What do I do now?” Thalia says after a long stretch of silence. 

Annabeth’s shoulders move against the couch cushions: a shrug. “Whatever you want,” she says. 

That, of all things, just fucking bowls Thalia over. Whatever she wants? What  _ does  _ she want? Whatever she wants. She holds the sentence in her mind, turns it over and runs her fingers over its surface. Lets it knock around the corners of her head and settle in. She can’t remember the last time she’s ever been able to just do whatever she wanted. 

What does she want? 

She wants to sleep somewhere that isn’t a tent, for one. She wants a bed. She wants to sleep and sleep and sleep until she wakes up on her own, naturally. She wants to rest. She wants to spar with Annabeth, to fight for fightings sake, no stakes, no life or death. She wants to walk through the woods with Grover. She wants to dye her hair again. She wants to eat strawberries fresh off the vine. She wants to listen to loud music by herself. She wants to sit on the docks with her feet in the water. She wants to kiss a girl. She wants to get a tattoo, or two, or three. She wants to see Jason, to see Percy, in a non life threatening or monstrous situation. She wants to walk the streets of New York, to sit on a bench and watch the mortals go about their lives. She wants to learn how to drive. She wants, she wants, she wants. 

It occurs to her, then, suddenly, that she can. She can do all of that. She has no other responsibilities or obligations or prophecies or gods to stop her. She can do all of that. 

“I think,” she says aloud, “I want to eat an entire pizza and then sleep for a week.” 

Annabeth, still watching her from the couch, grins. “That can be arranged.” 


End file.
